


3:15

by softsocky



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, M/M, and quite spontaneously, idk - Freeform, nor has it been edited, so there isn't really a whole lot going on, this was written very quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12735117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softsocky/pseuds/softsocky
Summary: It was fifteen minutes past three on a Sunday morning, and three years since Bin had met Dongmin.





	3:15

It was fifteen minutes past three on a Sunday morning, and instead of being in the arms of his dark-haired, happy-eyed dream, Bin found himself riverside, empty-handed, and very much alone.

***

He had dared the winter morning willingly, unravelling himself from the mass of blankets and decorative throw rugs Dongmin had insisted on, pulled on two pairs of socks instead of his usual one, and head out towards the 24-hour library not far from their apartment.

After almost three successful years in Astro, they had called for a one-year hiatus period. Not only had Dongmin enrolled in tertiary study, but MJ and Sanha, too. All in similar fields, and all incredibly hardworking, they had achieved far beyond Bin himself could ever have predicted, and the pride he felt was constantly swirling around his abdomen, like a young girl on pointe for the first time, touching her toes, all giddy and bright. But while Dongmin learned about the _History of the Fine Arts,_ Bin was learning something for himself: his boyfriend was always busy. He had expected it, of course. University took up a lot of one’s time, especially someone as dedicated as Dongmin; but Bin had never imagined it quite like this.

With the library in sight, and storm clouds above, Bin hurried along the empty, but well-lit, street. Once inside, it was easy enough to find Dongmin: he always sat himself in the far-right corner, far from everyone else, but still in sight of the exit. Had Bin never visited him before, Dongmin would have jumped – squealed, even – when he placed his hand on his shoulder, lips pressed to the back of his neck, but this routine was happening more and more often. So much so, that Dongmin had actually found it his late-night (early morning?) comfort.

As always, Dongmin leaned back into his boyfriend’s lips, eyes shut and sighing, and let out a pleased hum. They were alone in this section of library, and Bin had cheekily commented on numerous occasions on what they could get away with here, but, every time, Dongmin had playfully slapped his arm and told him to ‘ _calm down, Binnie.’_  Bin would always say that it was ‘ _something about those_ glasses _’_ or ‘ _your ass in those trousers’_ to which Dongmin would shake his head, press his lips together to hide his grin, and turn back to his books.

But today was different.  

Today marked the anniversary of their meeting. Three years ago, a shy, red-cheeked boy had walked head-first into Bin, not watching what was in front of him, and the two had been inseparable since. That first meeting – 3:15 on a Sunday morning – had been ultimately accidental, outside the community studio by the Han, but was perhaps proof that fate did exist, that destiny _was a thing_ , because Bin could never imagine a world without Dongmin in it; nor did he ever want to, either. Dongmin was not only the sun, but also the flower; and Bin himself the admiring onlooker who got the chance to be the water. Dongmin’s face was beautiful and soft, but more so his heart – and it was that that Bin fell in love with all those years ago. His eyes first, maybe, but not true love; not like _this_ love. The love he has now exceeds anything he had ever hoped for, thought of hoping for, when he watched those silly romance movies, or the heart-wrenching novels he refused to admit to reading.  Dongmin made him feel completed; it had happened so suddenly, this love, that at first Bin was terrified. He was terrified, because he hadn’t even known he was incomplete in the first place, and when Dongmin had strolled into his life so casually, he didn’t know how to take it. _And when Dongmin told Bin he loved him back…_

God, he loved those words on Dongmin’s lips, the words so surreal and erotic to him; words that could change his whole day around, make him get out of bed in the morning with ease. He knew that, because Dongmin was saying them now, still pressing back against Bin’s lips, murmuring sweet, breathy ‘ _I love you’_ ’s after every kiss Bin placed there. Too soon, Bin pulled back, sat himself down in the chair beside him, and took Dongmin’s hands.

Dongmin swivelled in his seat, facing Bin, forgetting all about the assignment in front of him. Bin leant forward, giving Dongmin a proper hello kiss, lips soft against his, hands reaching out and threading themselves in his hair. At first, he didn’t tug; he just sat his fingers there, kissed his boyfriend languidly for a few minutes, coaxing out a soft whine, and then _pulled—_

Dongmin yanked himself backwards, out of Bin’s hands. He pushed his hands flat against his chest, holding him away. ‘No, Binnie, no—’ he squealed against Bin’s insistent kisses across his face, pushing against him again. ‘I need to finish this assignment, and then I’m all yours!’ Bin didn’t stop straight away. He swooped in for one last opened-mouthed kiss, lips firm against Dongmin’s, tempting him to give in. At first, Bin thought he’d won – Dongmin had relaxed completely in his arms, his own hands pushing up Bin’s shirt at the back, dragging his nails against his spine. But Dongmin was strong-willed, and drew himself away after a few more minutes. They were both panting, Dongmin’s pupils much more expanded than before, trousers a tiny bit tighter, too, seeing Bin in this low light, soft and cuddly and warm, with his hands and lips on him like _that._  

‘I have a surprise for you,’ Bin announced, sounding smug.

With one eyebrow raised, Dongmin took his glasses off. ‘A surprise?’

Bin nodded. ‘How much longer do you need for your assignment?’

‘An hour, give or take.’

‘Okay, meet me outside the community studio in an hour?’

Dongmin cocked his head to the side, confused, but curious all the same. ‘The community studio? We haven’t been there since—’ Oh _._

_Oh._

Bin grinned wickedly, ‘just meet me there yeah? One hour – at the bench?’

***

When Bin had left the library, it was ten-past two. Now, it was nearing 20-past three, his jeans wet from the rain, hair disarrayed and wild; but the velvet in his right hand remained secure and dry.

***

It was an unplanned thing, actually. The process of buying someone you love an anniversary gift should be somewhat well thought-out, especially if its marking a specific milestone. But Bin and Dongmin weren’t married yet; there was no need for anything made of pearls or jade or whatever the milestone itself called for. Bin wanted something beautiful, of course, to compliment his boy, but he didn’t want it to be _too much_ either. Dongmin didn’t like _too much_ , the whole concept of frilly and sappy and cutesy acceptable to a limit, but there comes a point where Dongmin calls it quits. Which was why he startled himself when he stopped outside an antique jeweller, thinking to himself, _‘we aren’t married yet._ ’

***

It was eighteen minutes past three on a Sunday morning, and instead of being in the arms of his dark-haired, happy-eyed dream, Bin found himself riverside, empty-handed, and very much alone.

He had placed the ring box beside him on the bench a single minute ago. He had doubts, of course he did. He doubted Dongmin’s affections for him on a daily basis, because he couldn’t fathom how such a gorgeous person could ever love someone like him: uneducated and plain and bad at acting and with at least three bad angles to avoid while being photographed. Dongmin had no bad angles.

The rain had stopped, the clouds still threatening another downpour, but Bin had long since cared. The logical part of his brain told him that Dongmin was on his way; he had never let Bin down before, so why would he start now? He was probably emailing the assignment through right now, but Bin questioned it. He questioned it, as always.

***

He had thought about hiding the ring in the apartment. After some deliberation with himself, he decided that no, he wouldn’t be doing that, because he was sure Dongmin would find it. That left one other option: leave it one of the others apartments. But that meant telling them his plan; telling them that he had purchased an antique ring to propose to Dongmin with. It wouldn’t matter who he went to, they would all say the same thing – ‘but you’re so young!’. And he was – they _were_ young. He was just twenty years old, still too young to be making such life-changing decisions, probably, but my God, he didn’t want to decide on anything else unless Dongmin was with him.

In the end, he chose MJ – he was the eldest, hopefully the most understanding underneath his crazy exterior, and he was generally pretty good at keeping secrets. When he told him, MJ had, of course, screamed.

He had quietened down though, to a silence that made Bin queasy. ‘Bin…’ he stopped, Bin lowered his eyes, dually embarrassed and terrified. ‘Bin, can I see it?’

He shook his head, ‘after’ he said, ‘if he says yes.’

MJ Scoffed. ‘If he says yes. You know damn well he’s going to say yes.’ Bin shrugged, eyes still on the floor. ‘Bin, listen. I know you doubt him. I know you did, it would be hard not to. But you have been together for so long now, you are so bloody into each other, it’s disgusting.’ MJ’s shoe was unlaced, and Bin was tempted to retie it. ‘You know the way you look at him, right? All doe-eyed and gooey, its gross. But the thing is, you don’t see how he looks at you back – he does the exact same thing! You’re always talking about the things he has experienced and what you haven’t experienced; you’re always saying he’s done this and that. But guess what Bin?’

Something in the way MJ questions him makes Bin look up. ‘Guess what?’ MJ’s eyes are pleading with him, silently begging me to understand.

‘What?’

MJ smiles. ‘He’s never been married before.’

***

But none of that mattered, it seemed. Because it was nineteen minutes past three on a Sunday morning, and three years since Bin met Dongmin. It’s 3:19 and Dongmin hadn’t turned up.

Bin stood, eyeing the ring box on the seat, and turned to leave. The ring had been expensive, sure, and was perfect for Dongmin – but not perfect enough, apparently. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave it there; maybe he could donate it, or keep it as a reminder of his failure. With the early hour, the lights of the city reflected beautifully of the Han River, and for a moment, Bin was distracted. And it was in that very moment, he heard the distant cry.

He only stopped walking when he heard it again. Turning, he saw a dark figure running along the boardwalk beside the river – hands shoved deep in pockets, satchel smacking against their side, feet kicking up water as they pounded the wood. Bin knew that run anywhere.

It was Dongmin.

 It was his boy, his Dongmin, and he was running towards him, smiling wide and comfortably dry. Bin couldn’t bring himself to move, he just kept his eyes on Dongmin, barely hearing the thunder rolling in. Dongmin stopped right in front of him, panting slightly, but lips spread open over a wide, toothy smile. ‘Binnie.’  He was out of breath, reminding him of their kiss in the library earlier.

‘Leaving already?’

Bin looked down at Dongmin’s lips as he spoke, then back up to his eyes.

It was then that it happened.

Dongmin had reached his hands out of his pockets, and slipped them into Bin’s one-by-one. Bin felt his boyfriend freeze. Dongmin had clasped onto the velvet in Bin’s right hand.

It was an unmistakeable object, really, a ring box. Whether you’ve received a ring or not, one can recognise it anywhere; especially if it’s made a of navy velvet, smoothly curved on the lid. Dongmin knew what it was without Bin having to say anything, do anything, or give anything away.

Dongmin knew what the surprise was, but all he said was ‘leaving already?’ again.

Bin was speechless, himself too out of breath. Dongmin was just so pretty, even in the crappy street lighting, and Bin was sure he could feel his heart in his own chest. ‘What?’

Dongmin shook his head, ‘I saw you get up, you were leaving. It’s only ten past!’ This time, Bin was the one who froze. Dongmin’s hands were still in his, the ring box left unmentioned between them. ‘Wait, what?’

Dongmin tilted his wrist, hands never leaving his, and read the time aloud. ‘Okay, well. Now it’s quarter past three. But when I got here it was only ten past! You gave me an hour, and I was actually early!’

The thunder had well and truly rolled in by now – Dongmin had to speak up halfway through his sentence so Bin could hear. But Bin stopped listening when he heard ‘quarter past three’. Dongmin hadn’t ditched him; Dongmin hadn’t abandoned him. _Dongmin just had the wrong time._

It had always been a discussion between them: Dongmin constantly relying on a wrist-watch despite it always been out by five minutes.

Bin grinned wickedly, and his earlier plans were long gone. He had thought he’d get down on one knee, profess his love over and over again like he did every day, every night, every _time_ he saw his boy. But that’s not how they were. Bin and Dongmin were silly and quirky and a little _too much_ sometimes, most of the time. So instead, Bin pushed the ring box more firmly into Dongmin’s grip, and when he was sure he was a hold of it, he dropped their hands.

They didn’t say anything; no words were needed. Dongmin didn’t even open the ring box – the ring didn’t matter, it was the sentiment behind it, the reason he had the ring in the first place. _Bin wanted to marry me._

And my God, did Dongmin want to marry Bin, too.

***

MJ had never told Bin this, and perhaps he never would. But that evening, when Bin had left the ring box on the top shelf of the book case for safe keeping, MJ couldn’t resist. He watched the box while he ate dinner, caught up on his dramas, read his book. It was around midnight, just as he was heading to bed, when his will snapped.

He grabbed the box, turned the lights back on, and pulled the lid up. MJ would like to tell himself that he would tease Bin forever for picking _this_ ring, but he couldn’t, _wouldn’t._  It was rose gold, both chunky and delicate at the same time, with a single ruby at the very top. It wasn’t overtly big, but big enough that MJ’s eyebrows rose. Bigger than MJ thought Bin could afford, at least. But this ring was more than that. Beside the Ruby, three leaf-shaped diamonds protruded, giving the illusion that the ruby inset was a rose.     

MJ laughed because if he didn’t he’d cry. Bin would always call Dongmin his sun, or his _precious flower_ , or would go out and buy him some flowers of his own. MJ knew it was a thing of affection, Dongmin blushing profusely at the use of the pet-name. MJ wondered if the flower pet name sprung from the prettiness of both flowers and Dongmin, or if it was because flowers needed taking care of, and Bin wanted to be the one who took care of Dongmin; or maybe it was just because Bin loved him a lot.

MJ likes to think it’s the last one.

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever Astro-based piece of work - go easy on me! Thanks x 
> 
> P.s I know nOTHING about SK or Seoul, so the layout of the places in my head are extremely inaccurate!


End file.
